While I Waited

Talk of Wisdom

I awoke to darkness and a soft mattress, a setting so different it took a moment to remember.  Then I felt my knife-sheath pressing against my back, and it all came back in a rush.

I rolled up from the mattress and waited for my eyes to adjust to the dark.

I was in a fairly standard Gerudo bedroom - mattress on the floor, rugs for curtains, hanging beads for a door, and shelves full of folded clothes figurines, and knick-knacks built into the adobe walls.  This would be Zoral's bedroom.

She meant me no harm - I could tell that from my unbound hands and sheathed weapons.  Likely, she had dragged me back from that foolishness in the Swallowing Sands.  Likely, she was in the main room, sleeping on cushions as customs dictated.

A powerful headache kept any thought of sleep at bay.  I decided to sneak out and check that she'd recovered the Leevers.  If they were left overnight, others might claim the precious water hidden beneath their bark.

There was no sense in waking Zoral, of course.  I slipped through the rug-curtain and out into the brisk night air.

Zoral's house had a tent-like area at the back - coarse tartan stretched taut over a minimalist wooden frame.  The structures were often used as a Gerudo's workplace, or a stable if she owned a horse.  Indeed, I could see the silouette of my horse in the faint orange glow coming from inside.  Had Zoral left a lantern burning?

I pushed open the entry flap and found the Gerudo knee-deep in de-mucking a Leever husk.  "Sav'orr, Sheik.  There's a keg for you over there."  She pointed without looking up from her work.

I rolled the keg over to the other end of the husk and knelt down, readying my habra.

We worked for a few minutes, the only sound the soft sawing of our knives, our grunting, and the rewarding splash of water as we wrung out Leever flesh into our kegs.

Then Zoral spoke.  "You're Hylian, but you have the power of one of our witches."

"No," I said.  I would not be associated with such grotesque practices.  "My power is different, granted to me by the goddess Nayru."

"Nayru," Zoral said slowly, as if testing the word on her tongue.  "Is she the mind, the body, or the soul?"

"Nayru is the goddess of wisdom."

Zoral snorted.

"What?"

"Your hunting did not seem so wise."

I felt my cheeks heat.  "I know how to hunt Leevers.  I just messed up.  It's hard to hold all of the equipment; some of the needles slipped."

Zoral cackled.  I looked up.  The Gerudo had rolled back from the husk, hugging her chest against her mirth.  My heat rose as I waited, and my next word came out like a bark.  "What?"

Zoral wiped a tear from her eye.  "Wisdom.  You spend time fooling with needles and habras when you have the power of a god at your disposal.  Maybe Nayru blessed you because she pitied you."

I thought about showing Zoral some of that god-given power, but a timely pang from my headache made me think twice.  Besides, Zoral was just exhibiting that odd Gerudo humor.  I turned back to the Leever husk.  "I don't know why she blessed me," I said, and meant it.

Why would you give this power to the girl who betrayed her own people to flame?

"Ah, well, who knows the minds of gods?" Zoral said, sawing away.  "We Gerudo don't fool with that; we follow the will of the Sages."

I nodded - after living among them for five years, I knew a little of their creeds.  "Light, who teaches us to show the truth.  Forest, who teaches us to respect all life.  Mountain, who teaches us to bow to no one.  Lake, who teaches us to project peace despite churning within.  Shadow, who teaches us to step carefully..."

"And Spirit, who teaches us to live with our whole being," Zoral finished.  "You know us well.  Do you follow the Sages?"

Zoral had set down her knife; out of respect, I set mine aside, too, and turned my whole body to face her.  "The ideals are good.  My religion calls for much the same.  I do my best."

Zoral nodded, but her blue eyes held my own.  "I do not know you, little vure, and so I wonder this:  do you do your best, or someone else's?"

I pursed my lips.

"Ah, the night makes me brazen, my talk wild.  Go rest, vure.  You begin a long journey tomorrow."